


Lemon Boy

by Mental_Kitten, technoapologist



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But knowing us, Foster Care, Gen, Not Beta Read, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roleplay Logs, Sad Wilbur Soot, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, There will be a lot, dennys, no violence yet, that tag is so funny to me, this is a roleplay but i wanted clout, we die like techno in problem child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mental_Kitten/pseuds/Mental_Kitten, https://archiveofourown.org/users/technoapologist/pseuds/technoapologist
Summary: Wilbur Soot had low expectations.Phil wasn't sure why he said yes.Techno wasn't going to voice his worries.“Pretty grand entrance there. A scene kid and a gremlin, huh? A little weirder than I expected,” he almost spat, a sardonic grin crossing over his cheeks. Quite suddenly, Tommy nearly forgot about his (original) older brother’s presence, and felt a typical annoyance rise within him.“Oi, dickhead! Neither of us have even said a word yet, and you’re starting shit! Oh I should’ve known when Phil said-“(What Phil said surely didn’t matter. This was going to be a disaster.)Or: Wilbur Soot is an angsty teenager and throws off the natural balance far more than he should.-this is a roleplay from discord! i just wanted clout. the characters are split between us for the mostpart.also this is all in a chat called “mental-illness” lmfao
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 242





	1. I’m So Sorry (Returns)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno and Tommy meet Wilbur, who immediately proves to be a sardonic bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> characters are split between us! so far that means;
> 
> technoapologist:  
> wilbur  
> tommy
> 
> mental_kitten:  
> technoblade  
> philza
> 
> mental_kitten’s discord, moderated by me:
> 
> https://discord.gg/8xC4jY6Ntc  
> 

Wilbur Soot had low expectations.

There was, of course, nothing out of the ordinary about that. Being a foster kid most definitely brought someone’s expectations of the world sharply down, in and of itself, and being one labeled as a special case worsened that dramatically. Every home you visited lowered the bar for what you considered ‘bearable’, and after 9 homes, the bar was six feet under Wilbur’s feet, rooted to the cold concrete floor of the waiting area. 

Wilbur held his chin in the palm of his hand, adjusting his elbow on his knee. It was an awkward sitting position, granted, but he had committed to it by now, and putting down his knee was more noticeable than moving it pointlessly every twenty seconds in a desperate attempt to relieve the pain in his shoulders. On the floor besides him was his bag, one which had surely seen better days, sporting rips and holes every few inches. As usual, it had barely anything in it, - he didn’t expect to be staying long, so packing light was no issue, - which at least made it easier to carry regularly.

He gazed silently to the ground, zoning out in his waiting rather than listening to the ramblings of one of the workers, probably instructing him on the kind of people he would be staying with. Luckily, he didn’t care to know what kind of dipshits he would be met with this time. They would be a carbon copy of one of the other families, or worse - he was sure of that already.

Phil wasn't sure why he said yes. He had two kids that were happy, and that made him happy. Apparently this William boy did everything from start fires to illegal substances. He didn't press for the latter, but he could imagine. Something about the brief story he was given made heartache, and all he could think about as the woman talked was the state that Techno and Tommy had come home in. He could only imagine how much worse they could've been if they had come home any later than they did. 

It didn't stop the sickening feeling in his gut, though. Techno had issues with people, and Tommy was just plainly an instigator. They somehow found a way to balance each other out, but wouldn't throwing someone new into the mix destroy that stability? It was too late to back out. Plus, he had already bribed both of them into behaving by letting them chose where they could go for dinner with their new housemate. 

Phil wasn't sure when he had gotten up and started pacing. He just knew that he almost got smacked by the door when the lady flung it open, sparking a string of apologies from both of them. She made a face as she saw the boys behind him, but thankfully didn't comment. "We can sign paper work in private, since there's some matters we need to discuss." He knew that was a polite way of her telling him that she needed to explain the fucked up things this kid did. He normally didn't like to keep things from either of them, but he knew for a fact that Tommy would say something he shouldn't the moment he got upset. 

"Is it okay if they meet each other while we talk?" Phil knew the layout of the building still. So long as the door to the hall was kept open, he was sure that there wouldn't have been an issue. "I suppose." That wasn't a very reassuring tone.

Techno wasn't going to voice his worries. Why would he? Phil was already stressed, and he didn't need more on his plate. He kept his eyes glued to the pages of his book, plainly ignoring the conversation that was happening right next to him. He only looked up once the two had gone into the conference room he remembered all too well. "William is through that door." The lady's tone was polite but cautious. Something he also remembered all too well. 

"Keep the door open in case you need me." The grip on his wrist and the intensity in Phil's voice caught him off guard for a moment, but he simply nodded. Knowing Tommy, they were definitely going to need an adult to intervene. It was why he made sure he got to the opposite door before his little brother, not wanting this 'William' guy's first impression of them to be whatever weird insult Tommy would throw at him. 

Techno didn't mean to wrench the door open as hard as he did, not managing to catch it before it bounced off the wall way too loud. He pretty much froze, sure that he fucked it up already. Maybe he should've let Tommy go first. His brother wasn't much shorter than him, but he at least seemed normal. And sociable. Tommy could at least hold a conversation, while Techno was left staring too intensely at the guy hunched over himself in the chair. 

He was panicking already. Great. He heard suggestions in the back of his head about just clocking the guy in the face, and ignored them in favor of taking the chair the furthest from the guy. He might've looked out of place sitting with five chairs between them, but it made him feel better. What the fuck was he supposed to say? Techno ran a hand through his hair, fucking up his ponytail enough as an excuse to busy himself with letting it go to redo it. 

Why did Phil think this was a good idea?!

Sometimes Tommy thought that Techno was completely unaware of how fucking strong he was. This was one of those times. 

He wasn’t completely on board with the idea of a new sibling, - sure, the guy could be fun, but he could also *not,* and Tommy expected the latter, - and he would guess that Techno wasn’t either, but that door swing was a bit too energetic to match his thoughts. Still, he knew Techno, and he knew the way he froze there like the back of his hand. He knew when he had to step in and be the big man of the interaction, and by god, was he needed.

...Though, the brunette wasn’t exactly what he had expected, as he noticed with the slight jump at the slam of the door. A juvenile delinquent shouldn’t jump like that. He would ignore it for now.

The stranger spoke before him.

“Pretty grand entrance there. A scene kid and a gremlin, huh? A little weirder than I expected,” he almost spat, a sardonic grin crossing over his cheeks. Quite suddenly, Tommy nearly forgot about his (original) older brother’s presence, and felt a typical annoyance rise within him.

“Oi, dickhead! Neither of us have even said a word yet, and you’re starting shit! Oh I should’ve known when Phil said-“

“Said what? That I’m a special case? I’d guess you were the same, judging by this extraordinary first impression-“

“Don’t even try! I’ve dated more women than you’ve even seen, dip-shit! You look like a 2009 emo, you-“

“*I* look like a 2009 emo? I’d advise you turn to your right.”

The first trait Tommy Innit managed to notice in this William guy was that he was quick with his tongue. That, and, he looked freakishly lanky - but that was physical, so it mattered remarkably less. He was already out of ideas for what to say, and instead pulled a furious frown and flipped the brunette off. 

Wilbur simply laughed.

Techno sat down just in time for everything to dissolve into chaos. Fuck, it was like an evolved Tommy on top of regular Tommy. This William guy's words seemed more... calculated. He made sure his hair was secure before he responded, not wanting to play with it nervously like a child. Especially not in front of the guy who seemed keen on insulting them. "Why're you dragging me into this?" 

Usually his tone was enough to put people off. But the brunette was right about him barreling through the door. He really hadn't meant to, but he clearly couldn't trust Tommy to be civil. "Tommy!" Phil thankfully shouted from inside the room, seeing his more volatile child already flipping someone off. "I didn't mean to throw the door that hard. Sorry." 

The apology definitely sounded fake with how bland his default voice was, but he meant it. He wasn't good at reading people socially, but he could pick anyone apart when it came to anything remotely physical. It was why he could fight like he did. He still jumped like that sometimes, and the brief moment of panic he had seen let him know that this guy was also fucked up. 

Tommy had thankfully been spared most of the unconventional types of abuse, so he was hoping that the new guy would be the same. "Phil's....uh- Nice?" Fuck, Techno couldn't do small talk. Tommy clearly wasn't in the mood to, either. 

He glanced over at the open door, catching Phil's stare directed at their little group. Tommy was blocking most of the view into the room, but he definitely made out the little thumbs up he got. Which wasn't as comforting as it was probably meant to be. Techno picked at the cover of his book, considering briefly if it would be rude to continue reading while Tommy and William went at it.

“Right,” William said in response to the apology, keeping his eyes on Tommy as the youngest pulled down his rude gesture, calling out a *he deserved it* to Phil in the background. Once Tommy’s hand was lowered, he turned his gaze to Techno, seeming to have a natural skepticism about him, as if studying every movement of Techno’s face. 

Of which, he realized, there weren’t many.

Wilbur tended to be quite the opposite socially, - sure, he didn’t *feel* that he was connecting with the other, but, - he could easily inspect the expressions of another and tell what they were trying to convey or what they meant to hide. The twitch of a lip was often all he needed to sense dishonesty. 

Needless to say, he was always the one to suggest playing BS in a hospital, since there were enough cards missing that micro-expressions were the *only* strategy involved. He was better at it than spit, which, while it was a classic, involved quick reaction speeds. He knew his weaknesses, and anything physical tended to fall into that.

Tommy was the first to break the uncomfortable silence between the three of them, in which Wilbur stared at Techno, Techno stared at the floor, and he turned constantly between the two. 

“We’re getting Denny’s for dinner. It’s a contract that we can’t cause issues or we don’t get it, but once we’ve eaten, I’m not going to go easy on you, big man.”

“I’m sure I won’t struggle to hold off a child, thank you-“

“Maybe not, but you can’t fight The Blade,” Tommy boasted, a shit-eating grin on his face. Wilbur’s eyes flickered to Tommy, and for a moment, he was still, before he burst out laughing.

Techno turned the same color as his hair IMMEDIATELY upon hearing that wretched nickname. "Don't call me that." His one was always the same degree of flat, but the color spread up to his ears quickly. He hated when Tommy called him that. He knew that his brother meant it as a term of endearment, but it drew attention to him. Which was the opposite of what he wanted. 

"And I'm not fighting him just because you want me to." He added, wishing he could hide in his sweatshirt. It was already a few sizes too big, stretched even further from all the times he threw it over his legs to curl in on himself for comfort. But a bit bigger and he could pretend to disappear into it. 

Tommy liked to brag about him as his default when trying to threaten someone, which was endearing in a peculiar way. But goddamn, they were going to LIVE with William. He didn't need Tommy talking about the things he did to try and intimidate the brunette into *being nice to him*. It didn't help that the chanting started in the back of his mind, Tommy's nickname riling them up. 

"We should try to get along past that." He added, hoping that Tommy would miraculously read his mind and calm himself down. He was kind of expecting a miracle considering that his brother didn't fully understand his issues. Which was intentional. Even after being family for more than four years, how would he react if he knew the voices kept him awake with the need to stab him? 

Plus if Tommy knew, he would most certainly tell everyone he had ever spoken to if he found it even remotely interested. He usually didn't mean it maliciously, but sometimes the people at the post office didn't need to know that Techno would febreeze himself to go to bed if he didn't feel like showering after a workout.

“I’m not making any promises if he doesn’t behave himself,” Tommy said, turning to Technoblade with a pout. Wilbur, who was still laughing, now just quiet snickers under his breath, wasn’t ready to move on to any subject besides the god-awful nickname - not to mention, he was most definitely not behaving himself, and not in some childish fashion. Arson was more appealing than good relations, and it was as simple as that.

“*The blade?*” Wilbur asked, voice slightly higher with apparent glee. “Did you just refer to him as *the blade?* Fucking Christ, child, where does that come from?” Tommy turned back to Wilbur, scowling.

“Why, I oughtta - no, no, fuck, I want Denny’s - I’m Tommy, and so you know, I’m *not* a child, and he’s Technoblade, so-“

“Technoblade,” Wilbur repeated acerbically, and upon seeing a curt nod from Tommy, lips pressed into a still frown, he went quietly into another fit of laughter. Tommy opened his mouth defensively, but couldn’t find the words to explain the amount of rage he felt, or at least, words that wouldn’t be considered ‘hostile’ and ‘unnecessary.’ 

He really wanted Denny’s.

"I'm fine with just Techno. Tommy." He addressed his brother briefly, nodding at the chair beside him. As he waited for a response, he managed to balance his feet onto the chair with him. It was easy to wrap his arms around his knees and prop his head up, making a point to face away from the new guy. 

"It's a stage name." Techno added bitterly, hugging his legs to his chest as he listened to all the things that they wanted him to do to William. He was fine with being insulted, but for some reason it was really pissing off 'chat'. "Only thing I would respond to, so they put it on my record." 

He had no idea if that was something Phil didn't want him telling their new 'brother'. It didn't *seem* like too much information. It wasn't like he was going into detail about the horrible things he did when he was still being used as 'entertainment'. That was also shit that Tommy didn't get to know. He didn't want Tommy to ever know about that kind of thing. Hell, he lied to his therapist and Phil about some of it still. 

"Hey guys!" Phil appeared a moment later, peeking out from behind Tommy. They could almost pass as related if not for the height difference. He shot a pleading look at Techno, hoping that he would be assured that they were getting along. He got a frown in response, which was NOT comforting. 

"You all packed? We're getting dinner before we head home, so I hope your hungry." Phil was nervous. Very, very fucking nervous. He clamped a hand on Tommy's shoulder to ground him, also knowing that the kid going red in the face meant he was about to blow up with something horrible. Phil never brought a TEENAGER home before. Techno had been about eight, and Tommy was almost eleven. The figure hunched over himself in the chair could easily pass as an adult.

Wilbur gave Techno a quick glance with something almost knowing about it, though whether Techno could recognize that was another story, but didn’t respond. Phil entering was almost a relief - thank god the interaction was cut short, he thought, or the child might have blown up like a time-bomb.

The hand on Tommy’s shoulder managed to calm him down enough to shut his mouth, besides murmuring something about Wilbur being a total dick-head under his breath, and for a moment, Wil seemed almost relieved. He nodded to his bag wordlessly, grabbing onto the fabric holds and standing quietly. Fucking hell, was he tall. He certainly did pass as an adult, almost more than Phil, if it weren’t for the beard. 

“I can’t taste things,” he said simply, going into no elaboration as he walked towards them. Tommy seemed appalled at how tall Wilbur was, staring at him with eyes slightly widened than before. “Can we head out? This room is dull.”


	2. I Am Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The car ride to Denny’s, ft. Crywank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technoapologist:   
> wilbur  
> tommy
> 
> mental_kitten:  
> techno  
> phil
> 
> reminder that the ordering of paragraphs may appear odd since this is an rp!
> 
> https://discord.gg/3QpPDuaT7T

Phil was a tiny bit nervous about having William in the front seat. He managed to calm himself down once he realized that it was better than trapping him in the back with Techno. Or god forbid Tommy! If he could wrestle a knife away from his eldest, he could keep calm with the boy staring through him from the front seat. 

"So, do you prefer William?" He didn't mind if he did, actually. He just wanted something other than the bad pop music to break the silence hanging over them. That, and Tommy's soft cursing as he played whatever game he had pulled up on his phone. Which reminded Phil that he needed to dig up an old one for William. The were mostly for emergencies, but he was sure that an older one would be more resilient against whatever antics the boy pulled. 

Phil tapped the wheel nervously as he waited for a response. The woman felt the need to wait until he was taking the poor kid home to mention the mood swings and violent episodes. He knew how to handle both of those! What he didn't know was if William would still be alive if he happened to direct it at Techno. 

His son worked diligently in his therapy and was doing leagues better then when he first came home, but he still slipped up sometimes. Which wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't things like the last incident that involved him ripping the spout of the sink and throwing it hard enough to embed it into the wall behind him. But now he knew that Techno liked to do the dishes with music playing. 

Tommy did typical kid stuff when playing with fire, but he was sure that it wasn't anything compared to what the young man beside him had apparently done. He slowed to a stop at a red light, letting himself glance over. "You can change the music, if you want." Fuck, was he making a good impression?

Wilbur was zoning out up until he was asked a question, leaning against the window quietly and trying to see if he could keep his neck relaxed against the window on a bump large enough to give him a concussion. So far, the answer was no.

“Wilbur,” he corrected, just slightly too forcefully, before falling silent again. His left knee was up, shoe pressed against the fabric of the chair, - he was surprised he hadn’t been told off yet, - leaving him in yet another position that showed his awkward lankiness. Maybe if he lucked out he could convince Phil the foster system starved him, just for the hell of it.

Upon the mention of changing the music, however, his head quickly turned back to Phil. He realized his own reaction and tried to play it off like he wasn’t actually *that* excited, throwing in a slight eye-roll for good measure, but quickly tracing his vision over the AUX cord.

Oh, wonderful. Tommy was in charge.

“Oi, Gremlin,” he said, leaning over the center to look to the back seats, “Phil said I can choose a song.”

Tommy didn’t respond for a moment, before cussing at his phone and sliding up to home on his screen. He looked up at Wilbur with a scowl, raising an eyebrow. Wil grinned at him with some sort of fake-saccharine glint. “I hate you.”

“Good,” Wilbur responded without missing a beat, “Put on Crywank.”

“...Put on *what?*”

“God, you’re lame. Have you ever listened to good music, gremlin? Crywank.”

Tommy’s eyes flickered back down to his phone, and he opened Spotify, typing quickly. “You call *me* lame, dickbag, but you just told me to play a song called Crywank.”

“Band.”

“*Sorry,*” Tommy responded with a mordacious lilt, pressing the shuffle button. Wilbur grinned with accomplishment, turning back to face forward, and beginning to tap his foot quietly to the beat.

Phil nodded, taking note of the preferred name. If it made him more comfortable, then there was no reason not to. He knew how some kids ended up despising the name they were given, like Techno did. He didn't seem to be in the same condition as his eldest(?) son, but that didn't mean he wasn't. Tommy also seemed pretty normal until he decided to stop being charismatic. 

He made a face at the mention of this 'Crywank', but ended up keeping his mouth shut. He couldn't tell Wilbur he could do something and then change his mind. That was shitty to do to a normal child, and it usually ended badly with the traumatized ones. Once the music started, it actually wasn't too bad. It was his particular taste, but it was also a big improvement from what Tommy had been playing. 

"Both of you watch the insults, please." Thankfully Wilbur seemed to have chosen Tommy to pick on and not Techno. Which wasn't ideal since he would prefer no fighting, but it was better than a fistfight breaking out. Tommy seemed good at backing off once he recognized the threat of getting his ass kicked, which would hopefully carry over to his interactions with the brunette. Techno was harder to upset, but Phil knew for a fact that he couldn't get between them if shit hit the fan. 

Techno hadn't been paying attention, dozing with his cheek against the cold window. He was planning to down a few cups of coffee at dinner to help keep himself awake for the night. He hadn't been paying attention, and instead assumed that 'Crywank' had been an insult. "Don't look that word up, Tommy." He didn't need to deal with his little brother Googling that kind of shit at dinner.

Wilbur paid no attention to Phil’s suggestion, or, as he had assumed, warning, instead watching Tommy and Techno through the car mirror. “No, I implore you, google wank,” he said in a conversational tone. Tommy choked on his own spit at the realization of what Techno and Wilbur were saying.

“Techno, I’m fifteen! I know what wank means!”

“No, I don’t think you do. Go on google images,” Wilbur said, barely even present in the conversation outside of his voice. He was back to gazing out the window, humming along to the song between comments.

Tommy mouthed ‘He’s fucking weird,’ to Techno, scowling in his usual exaggerated fashion. “Dad, start speeding or whatever so we can get to Denny’s faster. The police will never know.”

"I'm not speeding!" Phil didn't expect anything less from Tommy, but Wilbur edging him on made him worry. Was Wilbur just an older, meaner Tommy? The one they had was practically feral already, so he could only imagine how well behaved two of them would be. "I'll kick both of you out of the car if this conversation continues." Techno suddenly chimed in, his tone the not-friendly flat from what he could tell. 

"Tech's not feeling well, let's keep the yelling down?" Phil knew for a fact that Wilbur wouldn't know that Techno was NOT joking. He did NOT need two minors flung from his car while he was going sixty miles an hour. He had some of his son's meds in case he needed them, so hopefully he could hold out until they were in the parking lot and he could rummage around in his glovebox. 

Techno snorted at Phil's words. He put his face back against the cold glass, focusing on that instead of Wilbur. He shrugged at Tommy's observation, listening to the hum of threats running around the back of his mind. Wilbur really didn't look like he could fight. He made a face at the thought as he tried to find something in the distance to stare at. 

Part of him wanted Wilbur to not listen, since he was sure that he could destroy the guy even while tired. The other part of him knew that it was a shit thing to do. Especially since he knew how mean the system could make people. The other part just wanted to see how much he could gorge himself without getting yelled at.

Somewhat surprisingly, Wilbur *did* quiet down, just turning up the volume knob and focusing his attention on the world outside the window of the car. He quietly muttered the lyrics of the songs as they played, ready to be at the house. Hopefully Phil drank.  
When the car came to a stop, Wilbur immediately unlocked the door and got out, stretching his legs quietly. Denny’s wasn’t that good, based on texture alone, and yet here he was, in the Denny’s fucking parking lot. Maybe he could just run away when they weren’t looking.

He didn’t even take a second to wait for the others, making his way into the warmth of the building quickly to prevent himself from getting too cold. Curse his bullshit eating habits, he got cold way too fucking fast.

Tommy pushed the door open and got out, sliding his phone into his pocket in the process, and staring towards the door. He watched it close behind Wilbur, mouth agape, and took advantage of his first moment away from the fucker.

“He’s such a fucking prick! What an entitled dickhead, thinking he’s all superior because he’s *tall,* well I’ll be taller than him come 2021, and by the looks of it I could beat him up anyways-“ Oh, he’s just rambling.

Phil couldn't do much besides give a sad smile at Tommy's angry ranting. "He's probably just worried. You know how you were when you came home." He would have to keep the boy at his side for the night to try and stop any conflicts before they started. 

"Come on, I might have a few dollars for the claw machines if you're good?" He knew Tommy was bad at the claw machines, but he usually found himself entertained by watching Techno outsmart the shitty engineering of the scam boxes. He wasn't sure how much good behavior he could get out of Tommy for a few bucks, but he was apparently going to find out. 

Techno took it upon himself to follow behind Wilbur. He had gotten inside by the time he was out of the car, but a quick sprint to the door had him right on the guy's heels. "Hey, we should wait for Phil." His tone was as dead as it was quiet, vaguely louder than a whisper as he found himself trailing behind the brunette. 

He had briefly seen Phil stay with Tommy, and assumed that his dad would have enough trouble trying to get his brother to behave. They seemed to be keen on insulting each other already, and it was only a matter of time until one of them poked the wrong button. 

Which would probably come from Wilbur, seeing as Tommy's main offensive was swearing and being loud. Wilbur seemed to actually articulate himself even when he was just spewing a line of swears, which had Techno worried for a moment. Was Wilbur a bully?

Wilbur turned quickly to Techno once he heard him, an arm for a moment raised as if to block a hit, but quickly pulled back down and played off as if it hadn’t happened in the first place. “Well, unfortunately, I don’t have the money to get myself a table,” he responded, tone somewhat dry, but definitely less so than the pinkette’s. “It’s cold out there, sorry for caring about my health, of whatever.”

Wilbur Soot did not care about his health. If anything, he just didn’t like shivering. Making a claim like that was a complete lie, and he was fully aware, but that only made it all the more thrilling to him. He was a good liar. He had practiced all of his life, so it was only natural that he would have improved. Where he looked for the twitch of someone’s lip, he kept his perfectly natural.

He didn’t often plan his lies, since they worked best in the moment, but he *did* plan a trip to the bathroom with his juul as soon as he could manage. 

He looked Techno in the eyes for a moment, taking note of the red circle around the inner edge of his iris, and then glanced at the receptionist, who was standing with a confused smile watching Wilbur and Techno. With a grin, Wil leaned into Techno’s ear, murmuring;

“Do you think I can get her number?”

Techno panicked at the extended eye contact, not liking how empty Wilbur's gaze seemed to be. He fiddled with the edge of his sleeve as he reveled in the peace he got once it was broken. 

He physically had to grip his other wrist to ground himself as the brunette moved closer unexpectedly. He couldn't punch Wilbur in the throat just because he leaned in to say something. He reconsidered once he heard what the guy had said. 

"Why would you do that?" She was probably a very nice lady, and seemed to be about their age. Maybe Techno just didn't understand the point of flirting. He didn't enjoy the idea of socializing more than he had to, and *flirting* with someone was exactly what he despised.

Wilbur pulled back and shrugged, murmuring a quick ‘sounds fun’ before Tommy burst through the door, not struggling to make his presence known. Phil followed just a moment after.

“Table for four,” he called out as soon as he entered, before even glancing towards the worker. Wilbur sighed quietly, turning to the lady, who now seemed quite a bit less composed and more confused by the situation. Wilbur threw her a fake-apologetic glance, and her composure quickly changed to be somewhat flustered as well. She nodded her head and got four menus, quietly informing everyone to follow her. 

Wilbur glanced at Tommy, who seemed oddly disheveled, but quickly followed behind.

Phil wasn't sure why Tommy wanted to get them seated, especially after he said that he didn't have to. He wasn't going to press. He let the boy slide into the booth first, boxing him in. Thankfully Techno saw what he was doing and sat across from Tommy. 

If he was anyone else in the world, it might've seemed silly that he was trying to prevent kicking at the table. But he also lived with Tommy long enough to not put much past him. The kid had very few morals, especially when he got upset. 

Techno wasn't sure about the interactions between Wilbur and their server. He didn't talk to people in general, Tommy didn't talk to women, and Phil was single. Outside of whatever crude interactions he saw at school, he didn't know a whole lot about being charismatic. 

Techno ordered himself a coffee once the lady asked for their drinks, making a point to order last so Phil didn't have time to stop him. The look he got wasn't of disappointment, oddly enough. Which was probably a sign that he had to behave since he was going to chug coffee with his meal.

Wilbur slid in next to Techno, leaving about an inch between them, tapping his fingers against the tabletop impatiently. He got a coffee as well, not bothering to consult Phil first, and only spoke up once the waiter had left the table.

“Bathroom,” he said dully, sliding out from the table and standing up. Tommy looked up from his phone to Wilbur, and he was already walking off towards the restroom signs. 

“...Awfully suspicious,” he commented, headstrong as always.


End file.
